The Memoirs of Saya the Bloody
by Bird in a Rented Mask
Summary: Okay, this is a slightly different version of my old story "The Saya Chronicles." I just realized it was terrible, so I took it down. This is a similar thing, but it just covers Saya's story, from when she was sired. I hope this is slightly better than the original. Rated T for British swears etc. Reviews mean updates, so if you read it, leave a comment in the little box. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Friday 13th August 1885

I sank to the floor, leaning against the wall for support. He loomed over me, skin frighteningly pale in the dim half-light. His hands were already a little bloody, but he wasn't through with me yet. He crouched down beside me, a vicious smirk creeping across his face. I shrank away from him.

"Please!" I begged. "No more. Don't touch me again." His smile became lighter, as though I amused him. He reached out a cold hand to caress my cheek. I swiped at his hand desperately; he responded me by striking me hard across the face, so that my head snapped sideways and hit the wall. I half-closed my eyes, seeing him through a scarlet haze of pain. Even then, his smile was perfectly visible. I saw his face change, mutate: it became something monstrous and evil before my eyes. He brought his mouth close to my neck, so close I could feel his cool breath on my skin. His lips caressed the skin above my artery, and I just felt the sharp sting of a fang scraping my flesh, followed by a thin trickle of warmth that I knew was my own blood.

"You're lucky," he breathed in my ear. _How?_ I thought bitterly. He straightened up and pulled me up with him.

"I'm not that hungry tonight." He gave me a gentle nudge and I turned tail and began staggering away as fast as I could. If I reached the town again, I could get help, and someone would hunt down whatever creature had just attacked me… just a bit further and I would be safe, I would-

"Hold on!" he called. Like a fool, I froze on the spot. He drifted up behind me and coiled his arm around my waist, tight enough to hold me completely still. I pulled furiously at his arm, but his grip was iron-hard and impossible to break. He grabbed my wrist, pushed me away and turned me to face him, almost as though we were dancing. I saw the silver-bright flash of a steel blade in his free hand.

"No!" I screamed as he brought it level with his face, examining it closely.

"I said I wasn't hungry," he drawled, gently caressing the cold blade with a fingertip, never taking his eyes off of me. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to kill you." He gently stroked the flat of the blade against my bare throat. I shivered and pulled away.

"I know what you are," I spat, adrenalin suddenly giving me courage. "I know, and I'll tell them. They'll hunt you down and kill you, then you'll burn in Hell where you belong, _demon!_" To my dismay he laughed.

"So spirited, child. So very, very spirited. I'm impressed. However, you missed one important detail." He beckoned me closer and brought his face very close to mine. I pulled away in disgust, half-expecting him to restrain me in some way, but he just let it go.

"You know what I am. A vampire. Now, tell me, what became of the last poor girl to run into the city bleating on about vampires, hmm?"

"She ran away to a convent, and died shortly afterwards." Of course I knew. How could I not know?

"Precisely. Nobody believed that poor girl, now, did they?" I shook my head numbly, too tired to fight him.

"There you go. You have no way out. So, you might as well give in now; save yourself the trouble later. You never know, I might be generous: I might make it painless for you." I stood very still, glaring at him as defiantly as I could. _Let him do what he will_, I thought. _Sooner or later someone will_ _come by here. _He rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation.

"Are we ready?" he asked cheerfully.

"Go to Hell," I returned icily. He chuckled, and slammed his fist into my chest, winding me and knocking me to my knees.

"I'll meet you there," he murmured, kicking me so I fell backwards. He climbed on top of me: knees either side of my waist, the cold weight of his body pressed tight against me, his hands gripping my wrists, pinning them to the concrete. He had me: I was completely at his mercy. He let go of one of my arms, withdrew his dagger again and touched it to my lips, a warning to keep silent.

"About the painless thing," he mused, pressing the tip of the blade against my cheek, "…I lied." He drew it sideways, slowly, slicing my cheek clean open, blood streaming from the wound. He repeated the same procedure for all of my exposed skin, which, after his previous activities, was most of it. When he was finally done, I was all but soaked with my own blood. He stood up and wiped his hands clean on what was left of the hem of my dress. He pulled me upright roughly and made sure I was supporting myself before letting go.

"And I think we're about done here," he said languidly, eyeing my blood-drenched form with an air of satisfaction. I turned and began stumbling blindly away, but not before he called me back once more with an imperious snap of his fingers.

"Just one more thing." He approached swiftly, rammed a blade into my stomach and began to walk away, tossing over his shoulder: "By the way, say hello to your family for me. Oh, wait, I forgot. You can't…"  
I heard his cruel parting laugh long after he'd left.  
Mindlessly, I started to walk away, unaware of where I was heading, and painfully aware of the fact that I'd never get there.

I don't know how long I walked for, or where I ended up, but the next thing I fully knew was that I was lying flat on my back, staring at the stars as my blood pooled on the floor around me. I was virtually numb from the neck down, thankfully no longer feeling the pain of my injuries.  
_Am I dying?_ It wasn't as painful as I had feared. As my eyes stayed fixated on the clear sky, I saw a glimmer of something that looked like a shooting star. I concentrated on it for as long as I could keep my eyes open, a tiny smile spreading across my face. _I wish…Oh God, I wish… _The sky began to melt as I watched, stars blurring into tiny dim smudges before disappearing completely and fading into darkness.

"_I think she's still alive." _Cool, gentle pressure at my wrist. "_Yes. I think we got here just in time."_

"_Look at all the blood, Spike. All her life, feeding the flowers."_

"_Shh, Dru. You don't want to frighten her." _I forced my eyes to open. Everything was too bright and out of focus. I vaguely saw a pale blur that could have been a face, but nobody that I recognised. I tried to lift my head but someone held me down firmly.

"Don't move now," he cautioned softly. "You're lucky to be alive, did you know that?" Talking hurt, so I just nodded. His hand gently brushed against my stomach, and I recoiled at the brief flash of pain. He murmured an apology and I felt him grip the knife. I knew very little about such things, but instinct told me that moving that blade could be very bad. _Don't pull it out,_ I pleaded in my head. _Please, please leave it where it is._ I reached up blindly and batted his hand away. He chuckled softly.

"I think I can help you, but you need to listen to me and do everything I say, all right?" I nodded again. He smiled his approval.

"Good. Now, I need you to close your eyes, but concentrate on staying awake. Don't sleep, okay?" I closed my eyes, and listened hard to his voice.

"Now, turn your head a little. Little bit more…" He very gently turned my head so that my neck was exposed.

"This might hurt a little bit. But it'll be okay. Ready?" I nodded carefully, and let out a husky cry as two sharp points sank into my neck. The strangest sensation of warmth began coursing through my veins, but it vanished before I could make another sound. He lifted my top half off of the ground, and I had to open my eyes. Quickly, before I could register anything, he pressed my face tightly against his neck. My lips found a small, deep cut, and before I could figure out why, my mouth opened and I began to drink his blood. I didn't want to: I wanted so badly to pull away from him, but I couldn't. He finally detached me and set me back down. With my last fading scrap of consciousness I saw him wave and mouth three words at me: _See you soon…_

I slowly regained consciousness, feeling refreshed, as though I had slept deeply. I made to sit up, but I hit my head on a low ceiling. I opened my eyes and was met with little but inky blackness. I shot my arm out to the side in panic, and struck a hard wooden wall. I spread both arms out and both hands met with glossy wood. The ceiling was barely two inches away from my face. I seemed to be lying down in a small wooden box. For a moment I was confused, before I woke up and realised exactly what had happened.  
I had been buried alive.  
Panic surged through my body in a flash burn. How was I going to get out? Was this another part of my torture, a slow death in an airless prison where nobody could hear me screaming my life out? I clawed at the lid of the coffin, despairing at the futility of it but feeling as though I had to try something. To my complete dismay I actually felt the wood splintering impossibly beneath my fingers. I continued to gouge, whole chunks coming loose and landing on me. After a while, a loose shower of dirt announced that I had broken through. Now for the easier part. I began digging frantically at the packed earth, forcing my way up as I loosened it. It felt almost like swimming through very dense water. My hand broke the surface first, waving about madly in the fresh air. Eventually I got my head free and began gratefully breathing in the damp night air like I had just come dangerously close to drowning. Which, in a way, I had. I wriggled upwards a little more, so that my shoulders were also free. Then I stopped. My feet weren't touching the bottom of the hole; they were several inches off of it, in fact. My head and chest were above ground, one of my arms was trapped and I had no way of lifting myself further out of my grave. Basically, I was stuck. Wedged in the most awkward position imaginable.

"Hello?" I called out, then, in a much smaller voice, "_Help?"_

"Well, it's about bloody time!" called a cheerful voice from somewhere to my left. I turned my head in pursuit of the owner of that voice, and saw a man striding towards me out of the bushes. He smiled in greeting.

"I was wondering when you'd turn up. I've been waiting here _hours_." He looked down at me and hid a smirk behind his hand.

"Who are you? Where am I? How did I get down here?" He backed up, holding up his hands as if to fend me off.

"There'll be plenty of time for questions later. But, for now…" He glanced up at the sky, "…Looks like rain, and, between you and me, I'd rather not get wet, thank you very much." I tried once more to wriggle my way out of the hole, failed and sighed exasperatedly.

"Erm, I think I'm stuck," I whispered sheepishly, feeling a faint blush creeping over my face. He chuckled softly.

"No problem. Just let me…" He grabbed my wrist and yanked me upwards, lifting me clear of the hole, and placed me down on my feet beside him. I brushed dirt off of my dress, realising I was fighting a losing battle. The dress, which had once been a nice shade of light blue, was now caked with dried blood and grave dirt, hanging in ribbons off of my body, and I just knew that the rest of me wasn't looking any better. He looked me up and down, shaking his head sympathetically.

"Come on. There's a lot I have to explain and not a lot of time to explain it in. Come on!" He took my hand to speed me along; I followed numbly, unable to process everything that was happening.

"Who are you?"

"As I said; there will be time for questions. But first things first: you definitely need a bath." I nodded grimly. He was not wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Up to my neck in hot soapy water, I began to feel that things maybe weren't going to be so bad. Okay, so I'd been tortured, stabbed and buried alive in the short space of one night, but I was in the company of somebody who at least _claimed_ to be a friend. I tried in vain to pull my fingers through my incredibly matted hair, which seemed to have merged into one huge knot. An attempt to comb it through only ended in the comb losing several of its teeth. So I just gave up and proceeded to clean off the rest of my body. The stab wound had faded to a pearly-pink scar across the middle of my stomach. _Impossible. _That happened hours ago. Injuries like that do not just heal in such a short period. _They can't. _I ran the tip of my finger over where the gash had been, wondering if its healed state was only an illusion. It wasn't. I ripple of unease spread through me as I wondered for the first time that night exactly what had happened. The door suddenly swung open, and a ghostly, oddly familiar-looking woman dressed all in black drifted in. Her dark, mysterious eyes landed on mine. I felt myself blush, but she seemed oblivious to the fact that I was busy bathing.

"The Prince of Lies requires your presence," she sighed dreamily. "Be quick and ready yourself, his highness will not wait." She made a strange, fluid gesture with her hand and departed before I could reply. I stared after her in complete confusion. _I died, didn't I? I died tonight and this is some bizarre purgatory-type place. _All the same, I lifted myself out of the bathtub and started towelling off, since a little of what that strange woman had said to me made sense: someone was waiting for me, probably that odd young man from earlier. I found a dress made of dark wine-red silk neatly folded on the floor and began to dress. There was no mirror for me to check myself in, but a quick feel with my hands told me that everything was roughly where it needed to be. My hair was still a complete disaster; I hoped the 'Prince of Lies' wouldn't mind.

In fact, he seemed amused by my general state, nodding in approval when I made my appearance.

"Mm-hmm, I knew the dress would be a good choice. I'm not so sure about your hairdo though, love." I shot him a look, mildly affronted by his familiarity. _Love? _He just shrugged at my expression, raising one eyebrow.

"Not to seem rude, but could you please explain to me how I'm alive?" His face suddenly turned serious.

"Right. What do you remember?" I backtracked through the events of the evening, recoiling in horror at the stark clarity of detail that some particular images had.

"I remember… being chased. He had a knife, and cut me with it, many times. He had the face of…a demon of some sort. His eyes glowed yellow, I remember that much. And then he stabbed me, and I woke up underground."

"Anything in between?" he pressed urgently. I shook my head briefly, before another deluge of memory came over me.

"Two people. One of them was…" I broke off with a smirk. He was pointing frantically to himself and nodding. "One of them was you, apparently. And the other, I didn't see her, but…" He jabbed his finger at the woman in black, who responded with a pout.

"It's impolite to point, William," she scolded. He rolled his eyes and ignored her, turning back to me.

"Okay, so you two were there. And…you…gave me something to drink, and that's about all I remember before clawing my way out of my grave." He nodded approvingly, giving me the slightest hint of a smile.

"Good. Very good. Most of the newly-changed don't remember a thing until the point at which they awaken, so that's surprising. And you seem pretty in control of yourself right now, so that's also good-"

"-Hold on," I cut him off suddenly. "What do you mean by 'newly-changed'? This isn't making any sense. What happened to me?" He inhaled deeply, as though preparing to give a huge speech, and laid a hand on my arm.

"Very well. Tonight…" He paused dramatically… "You died. And I can't be bothered to go into the metaphysical details, so I'll just tell you plainly: you're a vampire." His strikingly-dark eyes locked onto mine. There was a moment of heavy silence before I let out a mad burst of laughter.

"_What?" _I spluttered incredulously. "I am not a _vampire! _You, sir, are clearly drunk. Everyone knows vampires aren't real."

"Really?" he retorted coldly. "How do you explain your shady character with the glowing eyes, then?" I shrugged.

"Hallucination caused by fear and loss of blood, probably. And this," I gestured around us, at my strange, shadowy surroundings, "is all a dream. Right now, I am lying asleep in hospital. None of this has happened. Sadly, you are nothing but a figment of my imagination." He didn't look at all impressed.

"Are you so sure about that?" he whispered, a dangerously cold edge to his voice. I nodded, although my conviction was beginning to waver. It couldn't be possible that he was telling the truth about me, could it? Could I really be a vampire? _Oh, for god's sake, pull yourself together! This is utterly ridiculous. You know there is no such thing as vampires. _

"So, thank you for the bath, and the clean clothes, and for pulling me out of that hole, but I'm going to walk out of here now and hopefully wake up." I began striding purposefully towards the exit. I could feel his sceptical eyes on me, and something made me stop. Maybe it was some strange power he held over me, but it was more likely that his hand had just locked around my wrist. I tried to pull away, but he gave my arm an aggressive tug. Anger coursed through me unexpectedly and I turned around and snarled at him. He chuckled darkly. His female companion hissed in delight.

"She's here at last," she murmured dreamily, eyes closing. "The Princess has arrived in court." I reeled back, realising what I had done.

"I-uh…" Half-apologies formed on my lips, but died before I could give shape to them.

"No such thing as vampires, hmm?" he murmured, lifting my hand slowly to rest against my cheek. What I felt was twisted, distorted, and nothing like my own face at all. Gripped with suspicion, I ran my tongue over my teeth, starting in pain as something knifelike and sharp sliced my flesh. "Mm!" I exclaimed as the taste of blood filled my mouth. "Ow." _That felt like a fang. I have fangs. _"What have you done to me?" I demanded in a voice that barely escaped shaking.

"I saved your life," he said calmly.

"You made me a _monster!" _The last word came out as a half-formed scream as I flew at him, new fangs all ready to rip out his throat. His hands locked around my shoulders, slamming me into a wall with enough strength to make me stop in my tracks.

"Listen to me!" he snapped, an enraged growl slipping into his voice. "Yes, I made you a 'monster', but you're alive, aren't you? Which is a good deal more than you would be if Drusilla hadn't seen you when she did! So I suggest you calm yourself down before I _regret_ what I did last night." His hands remained tightly clamped around my shoulders for a few moments before he saw fit to release me. I took a few deep breaths, trying to gain control over my emotions.

"There," he said, in a much softer tone. "Better?" I nodded uncertainly. He nodded his approval. "Good. And, now we're through with the unpleasant stuff, why don't we all get to know each other a little, hmm?" He inclined his head and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "William the Bloodly, at your service, ma'am." I giggled.

"Is that really your name?"

"Well, yeah, but you can call me Spike, if you want." _I don't even want to know where he got that nickname from._

"This is Drusilla," he continued, nodding at the dark-haired woman. I could tell by the way he looked at her that they were very, very close.

"And you are?" he asked. That was a problem. Somehow, and I didn't even know that that was possible, I had forgotten my name. Now, I knew who I was, my age, height, gender, all the obvious details, but my name had somehow disappeared completely. Spike saw me faltering.

"Is there a problem?" he asked. I shrugged.

"This sounds ridiculous, but I can't remember…"

"Your name?" he finished for me. I nodded slowly, feeling a little embarrassed. He gave me an understanding look.

"That's all right," he reassured me. "It's only natural that you'd lose a few memories here and there. I know I did. At least, I think I did, I can't remember…" He flashed a winning smile and I managed a weak one in response.

"You're all blind," Drusilla said fretfully, her long pale fingers worrying at a strand of her hair. "Blind! You're standing before a princess and nobody thought to plant flowers for her!" She let out a despondent wail.

"Why does she keep calling me a princess?" I whispered to Spike. He shrugged.

"I don't know. Usually it's better to nod, smile and pretend you understand every word she's saying. Occasionally she says things that make some sort of sense, if you keep your ears open." I nodded, taking the advice on board. Drusilla wandered up to me, gently took my hand and kissed it.

"Welcome home, Princess Saya, lady of the Cinnamon Sticks." I shot Spike a helpless glance.

"What?" I gasped in disbelief. Spike shrugged once again, giving Drusilla a fond glance as he did so.

"I have no idea, but it seems we found a name for you, Saya."

"Saya?" I echoed, trying to fit my mouth around the strange-sounding word. "Saya…are you sure?"

"Well, if nothing else, it's convenient. We couldn't very well wander around calling you 'No-Name' all the time, could we?"

"No, I suppose not." Well, like it or not, I had been christened into my new family, if you could call it a christening, it having been performed by a demon. My new name was Saya, and I was now a vampire.

**(A/N: God-awful cutoff point, I know, but I had to shut up the plotbunnies somehow. A big thank-you to NotCrazyJustWeird1997 for supplying Saya with her 'official title' and for urging me to finish this right now. Reviews are what will keep this story alive, so if you like it, despise it, or want to shoot me in the face with a rocket launcher, I'd be grateful for a review.)**


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